Volvo tossed and turned in her bedroll. It was the dead of night. They'd retired to an old, blasted-out parking garage- what was left of one, at least. A small corner of it, extending up to about the second floor. They'd holed up underneath the second floor, using it as a make-do ceiling against the elements, and Calamity was up-top, keeping watch. They'd do it in shifts, Volvo would be up in about three hours.
 
    And she couldn't. Fucking. Sleep. No reason at all. It was dead quiet, not even whatever insects could survive a nuclear apocalypse were making noise. No birds, no wind, no rain... just her, and her breathing.
 
    ... and the faint crinkling of cheap plastic. That was new, that hadn't been keeping her up. But it did still beg the question- what was causing it? She turned over onto her side, laying her eyes on a (presumably sleeping) Littlepip. Little wasn't fitting at this point. Contrary to most cases, Pip had only ballooned outwards in size after they'd ventured into the wasteland- a product of her dimunutive stature and, somehow, an abundance of food. Hell, they'd all been eating well, with her hacking food out of every single vending machine they came across. Calamity was sporting enough belly to deem it a beer gut, her own ass had grown enough that her snugly-fitted Stable suit was now clinging to it like a pair of panties, and Littlepip...
 
    Pip was resting on her side, faced away from Velvet. Her body followed a sort of pair shape- down from her head and neck, starting just past the withers, her stomach had grown to two, maybe even three times its original girth, making her wide enough to scrape some doorways. Her ass had expanded with fat nearly proportionally- it might very well have killed another pony if she sat on their face. Viewed from behind, they looked like inverted teardrops, sloping downwards from an enormous, plump asscheek into her hindlegs. Her belly, when stood up, hung pendulously below her, swaying to and fro with every step, far heavier than her apparent plushness might demote. She didn't even bother with a Stable jumpsuit anymore; she'd outgrown it three clothing sizes ago.
 
    In simpler terms, Pip was fat. Obese, even. Blubber-struck, gravitationally challenged. Take your pick. Her belly was so bulbous, so plump, she couldn't even properly lay on her side. The mare was more pushed onto her back by the sheer weight of it. It was mostly just her head leaning away from Velvet as a plastic-something or other crinkled and her horn glowed.
 
    Velvet rolled onto her belly, and stood up, doing her damndest to be furtive. It was easy- the sound of crumpling plastic masked the light tap-taps her hoof-falls made. She peered over Pip's shoulder and belly, where the mare's snout was pointed, and blinked. Scattered all around the mare, around her belly, and blubbery chest, and muzzle, were wrappers. All the same, all reading "Fancy Buck Snack Cakes". She watched with some interest as the formerly petite mare unwrapped another snack cake, stuffed the whole thing in her gob with a light application of telekinesis, and put her hooves to her mouth to keep it all in as she chewed, chewed, and swallowed. Her fat neck didn't so much as bulge as the lump of calories went down.
 
    She watched, with morbid interest, as Littlepip scarfed down another mouthful of snack cake, and then patted her tummy. "Uh, Pip, do you not eat enough as is? You need to get to sleep, where did you even get all of these... oh. Dear." As her eyes scanned up and down Pip's obese, rounded body, her eyes settled on the saddlebags leaning against the mare's vast expanse of a stomach. They were burstingly full, all the time. Bulging with their contents. That made sense; in the wasteland, you scrounged for space, made every pound count. Water, medicine, ammunition, and maybe a few scarce pieces of entertainment- a magazine for example. Food, too, you couldn't forget the food. Pip hadn't. In fact, she'd forgotten everything but. Looking down into her open saddlebags, Velvet Remedy saw nothing but pre-packaged snack-cakes, hundreds of them, easily. They were large saddlebags.
 
    "Pip. Have you just been lugging around snack cakes this whole time?"
 
    The grey mare looked at Velvet, blinked, and shook her head no. Velvet simply grabbed both the bags in her telekinesis, dumped them upside down, and let a pile of snack cakes the size of a small pony fall out onto the ground. She actually strained with the effort of lifting it all. "Pip, me and Calamity have been sweating our rears off lugging around actual food, water, guns, and all the other odds and ends we need, and you've just been carrying around snack cakes? No wonder you're so fat, you pig!" She punctuated the statement with a harsh jab to Pip's gut, one that made the whole thing wobble, gurgling in annoyance. Pip opened up her mouth to say something, a retort, as her cheeks went bright red, but Volvo stuffed a snack cake into her mouth- wrapper still on.
 
    "No, no, no­. No buts, young filly; I can't have you wasting all this edible food, but you can't carry it all around either... not in your saddlebags, at least. You're finishing these all tonight."
 
    Pip tried to spit the snack cake back out, but Volvo simply crammed the thing all the way back to her throat, and then forced her muzzle closed with another bout of magic. "Swallow, piggy. I'm not kidding around. It wouldn't be right of us to litter either, so you're eating the wrappers too. A bit of indigestion might teach you a lesson, hmn?" With her magic, she forced Pip's head up and down in a nod, grinning as the young mare grimaced and gulped down the calorie bomb, wrapper crinkling. "Good girl! Keep going!" She forced Pip's mouth open, stuffed in three more of the things, and shut her mouth again, procedurally. While Pip worked out how to swallow that down without being able to chew it, Volvo clambered atop of Pip- stood up on her hindlegs, hook one foreleg into the mare's navel, another past that, on the curve of her immense gut, and hauled herself up on top of a belly two thirds as tall as she.
 
    Velvet was, of course, a much heavier-pony. Just as Pip finally started working those cakes down, Velvet's weight settled into her stomach, creating a back-up of pressure. For a moment, an actually visible glob of food stuck in her throat, hovering up and down, not wanting to go back but nearly unable to proceed downwards. Velvet reached a hoof out, poking at just above her throat where the bulge was, and geeeently pushed it down, like she was squeezing a golf ball through a hose. Maybe it wasn't so gentle.
 
    Pip finally swallowed it down fully, gasped, and panted, trying to catch her breath. Velvet gave her grey-furred gut a harsh smack, forceful enough to make the whole rotund mass wobble up and down beneath her, and laughed crassly as she levitated an array of twenty packaged snacks up around her in a small constellation. "Hope you're hungry, piggy," she leered.